The Ark: A Novel (47 page)

"Don't worry," she said. "Just a few minutes, and I'll be done."

"Okay," Locke said. "You've got five minutes. I'll go back and contact our guys to call for the helicopter. If I still can't reach them, we'll have to assume something happened outside the cave, and I'll want you there on the double."

Dilara was already snapping away with the camera, ignoring Locke.

He wound back out of the treasure room and walked toward their packs, trying to raise the mercenaries as he went. If anything, the static seemed to get stronger the closer he got to the cave entrance.

Locke reached the spot twenty feet from the crevice through which they'd entered the cave. It was where they had left their packs, but all he saw was empty floor. He knew that was the spot. The only explanation was that somebody took their packs.

The static wasn't interference. The radios had been jammed deliberately. Someone was in here with them.

"Hello, Tyler," said a smooth voice from behind him. "Hands on your head, please. Slowly."

Locke complied.

"Now turn around."

As Locke turned, his miner's light fell on the image of Sebastian Garrett walking toward him, aiming a pistol at Locke. Garrett pushed a pair of night vision goggles onto his forehead. He stopped walking when he was twenty feet away, and his face broke into a satisfied smile.

"Thanks for showing us the way in."

"That helmet light is in my eyes," Garrett said. "Turn it off. And no sudden movements. I'm not the only one here."

Someone clicked a flashlight on behind Locke. One of Garrett's guards by the crevice. Locke flipped the switch on the helmet light. The guard's light focused on Locke was now the only illumination. Any other lights still on in the massive Ark were too dim and too far away to be useful.

"Our men outside?" Locke said, already knowing the answer.

"They were good. Not great, but good. They even got one of my men before Cutter was able to take them out. Now drop your weapons. Slowly. The radio, too."

Locke put the submachine gun, pistol, and radio with its earpiece on the ground.

"Turn and kick them to Brett."

Locke turned and saw a lean man armed with an automatic weapon and grenades strapped to his chest and a set of night vision goggles perched on his forehead. Locke wished they'd had a chance to acquire some grenades in Van, but all he could get were some mining explosives that were in his bag of tricks, which the guard now carried. The other packs were somewhere in the dark.

"Yes," Garrett said. "I know your penchant for explosives, so I made sure to secure your bag."

"Where are your other bootlickers? Waiting outside?" Locke needed to goad Garrett into giving him some info.

"No, they're in here with us. Dan Cutter and Svetlana Petrova are similarly equipped with night vision goggles and are searching for Dilara Kenner and Grant Westfield right now."

"Garrett's here!" Locke shouted into the darkness.

"Crude, but effective. It won't matter. You don't have starlight scopes like we do. Otherwise, you would have seen me when you came back here. Besides, I have an offer to make."

"I'm not going to tell you where the amulet is."

"I already know where it is. I can see it's in your pocket. What I can't have is Kenner and Westfield roaming about like this, maybe finding yet another way out after I've gone. That wouldn't do. Ergo, my offer."

Just like Garrett. Pretentious enough to use the word
ergo
when he's making a threat.

"You're just going to kill us anyway," Locke said.

"Yes, you're smart enough to know I can't let any of you live. And I will find all three of you eventually. I just don't want to wait." He gestured at Brett. "The radio."

Brett tossed Locke's radio to Garrett, who caught it easily. He keyed the mike.

"Dilara Kenner and Grant Westfield. I know that you can hear this. If you come forward in the next two minutes, I will promise each of you a quick and painless death. If you don't, I will begin shooting Tyler Locke. First the feet. Then the hands. Knees. And so on. Nothing vital. Nothing that would kill him. But it will be an agonizing way to die. You have two minutes starting now."

"They won't do it," Locke said.

"You better hope they do."

"You were waiting for us all along, weren't you?"

"You're a resourceful man. As soon as I saw that you had made it to Khor Virap, I knew you'd be able to find the Ark and show me the way in."

"And you're always good at thinking about all the angles, Sebastian. That's why you got away with cutting all those corners building your lab and firing me."

Garrett smirked. "I win yet again. By invading Oasis, you may have changed my plans, but the outcome will be the same." He spoke into the radio. "You now have 60 seconds left."

* * *

Grant had made a mistake not to keep Dilara with him.

He had been looking at an intricately-carved ivory figurine and Dilara had still been photographing the treasures when he had heard Tyler yell, and then seconds later the radio call had come in from Sebastian Garrett telling them they had two minutes to reveal themselves or Tyler would be tortured to death.

If he was going to save Tyler, he had to move fast, and Dilara would slow him down. He told her to go back to the third level and hide. She'd argued that she could take care of herself, so Grant used that, telling her to keep herself safe and out of sight. She should use only her 3-D mapping system to guide herself since it didn't depend on an external light source. She shouldn't use her flashlight or helmet light.

They'd separated, and Grant doused his own flashlight. He flicked the infrared scope on. The scope picked up temperature differences, not visible light, so any heat source--particularly a human body--in his field of view would flare like a campfire on a moonless night. He knew Cutter was around somewhere, and he wouldn't be content to wait for the full two minutes. He'd come find Grant.

Grant ran low and fast toward the crevice, but when he got to a ramp, he decided height would be an advantage, so he ran up to the second floor, trying to keep his footsteps as light as possible.

That's when he realized leaving Dilara had been a mistake.

As he was running, he peered back and up to the third level promenade to see where Dilara had gone to hide so he could find her later. With the infrared, he saw her go into a room. To his surprise, he saw another figure on the third level carrying a weapon. Then a second unfamiliar person caught his eye on the first level. Neither of the hostiles seemed to be looking in his direction, so he ducked into one of the rooms. They both seemed to be quietly and methodically searching each room. He flipped up his eyepiece and crept out to look up to the third level promenade and down to the first level cavern floor. No lights, which meant they had night scopes.

He flipped the infrared eyepiece back down. The images weren't distinctive enough to let him identify the hostiles, but the one above him looked smaller. A woman. Svetlana Petrova, Garrett's girlfriend. He was sure the other one was Cutter.

He had three options, all of which churned through his mind in as many seconds. First, he could keep going and take out the people holding Tyler, ignoring Dilara's situation. Not a good option. Tyler wouldn't forgive Grant if he sacrificed Dilara for him. Second, he could start firing at the hostiles, but with these civilian infrared goggles, the chances of hitting anyone at this range were minimal. Not to mention he'd give away his position.

Since the first two options sucked, he chose the third. Petrova would make a perfect hostage. He could exchange her for Tyler. Or at least buy enough time for him to figure out the next move and keep Tyler alive and free of bullet holes. If Grant could sneak up on Petrova from behind, he could grab and disarm her.

Grant crabbed up the ramp to the third level as fast as he could. In his earpiece, he heard Garrett say, "You now have 60 seconds left." He was running out of time.

He peeked over the edge of the third level walkway. There was Petrova, just 40 feet in front of him. She was almost to the room he'd seen Dilara go into. If Petrova saw her first, she was dead. These people weren't looking for hostages.

He got to his feet and crept toward Petrova, ready to take her in a headlock.

* * *

"You've thought of everything," Locke said. "Even those night vision goggles. Generation-Three?"

"The newest we could get on short notice," Garrett said. "Amazing devices. All we need is the light coming through that crevice to see this entire cavern as visible as if it were in daylight."

"You've thought of everything. Except one. What if the amulet isn't really in my pocket? What if I've hidden it somewhere in the Ark?"

"You didn't have time. And if one of your colleagues has it, they will realize that my offer includes bringing me the amulet."

"But if they've hidden it, it could take you a long time to find it. Noah's Ark is a big place."

"You're bluffing."

"Just trying to get you to think about all the angles."

Garrett kept his pistol trained on Locke and looked at his watch. "We still have thirty seconds left. All right. We'll make sure." Garrett spoke to Brett. "Search him, starting with his left front pocket."

As Locke had hoped, Garrett took the bait. And as he knew, Garrett wouldn't do the dirty work himself. He'd leave that to his minion.

Brett approached Locke. Locke had noticed the guard carrying the flashlight in his left hand, the pistol in his right. To search Locke's pocket, he'd need to holster his pistol.

Brett removed the Amulet of Shem, and when he tossed it to Garrett, Locke seized his chance. As Garrett caught the amulet, Locke whipped his hands down and grabbed Brett's vest. It wasn't until Locke moved that Garrett realized Brett was the only one with a light. Too late, Garrett stuffed the amulet in his pocket and reached for his own flashlight.

The guard might have expected a blow, some kind of chop or punch, but he wouldn't have considered the possibility that Locke would simply grab his vest and push him backward. Brett's flashlight clattered to the floor, leaving them unlit. Brett sent body blows into Locke's midsection, but Locke wouldn't let go and continued to drive Brett backward.

By this time, Garrett had recovered and started shooting. In the darkness, Locke felt bullets zinging past his head. One hit the side of his thigh, causing him to stagger, but with the adrenaline dulling the pain, he couldn't tell how bad it was. One thing he was sure of, his only chance was to keep hold of Brett until he could get him to the crevice.

Locke kept churning his legs, pushing Brett, who was off-balance, but preventing him from falling, which would be just as deadly. The crevice was his target. Just a few more feet.

The bullets kept coming, and one went into Brett's shoulder, splashing Locke with blood. It wasn't a mortal wound, but it was enough to slacken Brett's resistance. In another two steps, Locke gave a final shove, and Brett tumbled into the crevice, the bag of tricks beside him.

Locke scrambled away from the opening. He only had two more seconds because as he let go of Brett, he'd grabbed the pin from one of the grenades on Brett's vest.

Locke rolled ten more feet and covered his head. The shock of the explosion pummeled him. The grenade went off before Brett had a chance to get up, and the mining explosives were detonated by the grenade. A thunderous clap echoed through the cavern, and when it was over, Locke heard the walls of the crevice collapsing. It was completely sealed.

It was exactly what he was hoping for. Not only was that way out closed, but light was no longer coming from it. Without a light source, caves aren't just dark, they're pitch black, like swimming in a barrel of ink. The type of night vision goggles that Garrett wore work well in the night sky, even without a moon, because although it's dark outside, the stars still provide some light. In a cave, with no external light source, the night vision goggles have absolutely no light to amplify. They would be useless. Garrett, Cutter, and Petrova no longer had the advantage. They would have to use flashlights.

The odds were even.

Cutter had been hoping that he'd find Grant Westfield crouched in the corner of a room so he could shoot him like a dog, but no such luck. He got his break when he looked up to check on Petrova's progress. They were in comm silence to mask their positions. On a ramp above him, he saw a huge figure not 40 feet behind her get up and move towards her. That slab of meat could only be Westfield. Cutter finally had him in his sights, but the angle wasn't good. He wanted to make sure he got that bastard dead center.

Westfield didn't see him. Just like in the Army, Westfield was too focused on his target, not paying attention to his flank. Now he'd pay for it.

Cutter found a ramp and tiptoed up. He'd ditched his sniper rifle in favor of the MP-5 submachine gun, which was a better close-in weapon.

Westfield was close to Petrova, his weapon at his side. He was only 25 feet above Cutter, that big chest centered in his sights. There was no way Cutter would miss. He couldn't resist seeing the expression on Westfield's face when he realized he was about to be shot by Cutter, so he called out.

"It's Chainsaw," he taunted.

Westfield's head turned, and even with the night vision goggles, Cutter could see the flash of recognition.

A huge explosion from Garrett's direction blasted like a cannonade through the cavern. At the same time, the viewfinder on his goggles went out. Nothing. Black.

Cutter fired, but he knew it was too late. He heard the bullets chew into wood, but no screams of pain.

He had missed. And now he was blind.

* * *

Dilara hated the idea of hiding, and the explosion, followed by a splat of bullets nearby, spurred her to action. She couldn't stay there, waiting to be hunted down. She had to do something. She drew her pistol, although she didn't know what she could do with it without a flashlight.

Dilara had taken refuge in the weapons-filled room she had found earlier. She'd been awed by the knives, swords, and spears that lined the room. She recalled that an array of bows leaned against a wall, and next to it was an urn painted with a purple symbol that looked like a cloaked figure praying. The urn held a bolt of arrows, points down. The symbol had looked familiar to her, but she didn't know why.